


It's Okay (I Love You)

by sheryl_sems



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Based on a Tumblr Post, Bellarke, Brainwashed Bellamy, Clarke is destroyed by Bellamy forgetting who they are!!!, Declarations Of Love, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Inspired by Divergent, Supportive Echo, Supportive Miller, The 100 (TV) Season 7 Speculation, be warned: so much angst!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:49:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24587869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheryl_sems/pseuds/sheryl_sems
Summary: Clarke, Echo and Miller travel through the anomaly to Bardo in the hopes of rescuing Bellamy. When they finally find him, he is not who he used to be.(based off chasethesun18's tumblr theory of brainwashed!Bellamy)
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 25
Kudos: 132





	It's Okay (I Love You)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi all of you! Thank you for wanting to give this a read! The biggest thank you to chasethesun18 on tumblr for an amazing theory (which you can find here https://chasethesun18.tumblr.com/post/620130703545401344/ok-ok-ok-so-ive-seen-a-lot-of-brainwashedbellamy) and for being so so encouraging and mostly for inspiring me to write something after ages and ages that I am unbelievably proud of. Also big thank you to my friend Heather and my wonderful sister for beta-ing this for me because I wanted it to be as perfect as possible. Notes at the bottom for some further thoughts! Enjoy this! xx

When she sees him walking down the corridor towards them, tears spring to her eyes and she smiles, feeling breathless with anticipation. _He was okay. He was alive and he was okay._  
  
  
But then Echo’s fingers curl around her elbow with a tightness and urgency that Clarke can’t understand.   
  
  
And finally she takes in the knife in his right hand and the emptiness in his eyes and she feels breathless for a whole new reason. Her chest begins to tighten in panic and she can do nothing but stand frozen in horror, watching as he gets closer and closer, knife gleaming.   
  
  
She wants to believe there’s somebody else in the corridor, somebody he’s going to save them from. But the only ones there are three of the people who love him the most.   
  
  
She hears Miller shouting followed by the hiss of a metal door sliding open and then Echo is pulling her backwards. But all she can do is stare and stare and _stare_. Even as the metal door slides shut between him and them, she continues to stare through the circular glass window, hoping for a sign that this _wasn’t happening._ And then he’s slamming against the door, a snarl on his face so violent that it chills her to the bone, and she knows there is no point denying what is in front of her.   
  
  
“Bellamy,” she whispers. Echo falters while pulling her further backwards, away from the door.   
  
  
“Clarke, we have to _go_ ,” she urges.  
  
  
“It’s Bellamy,” Clarke says, not _understanding_ amidst her brain flatlining. She doesn’t realise she’s crying until Echo spins her around and grasps her face, thumbs swiping at the tears on her cheekbones.   
  
  
“It’s not _our_ Bellamy,” Echo says and Clarke can see the pain and confusion not from the wetness of Echo’s eyes, but from the tensed muscles of her jaw, from the gritting of her teeth, from the way her fingers tremble against Clarke’s face.   
  
  
“We can’t leave him here,” Clarke stutters, scrambling to escape Echo’s grasp but Echo holds her firmly by the shoulders and shakes her roughly.   
  
  
“We stay, we _die_ ,” she says and Clarke wills that to be untrue. But she knows that it is not. Because even though they outnumber Bellamy, they won’t fight him. It goes unspoken, but they all know it.   
  
  
“We have to go!” Miller calls urgently. Echo’s eyes flicker behind Clarke when they hear the beeping of a keypad on the other side of the door.  
  
  
Clarke can no longer feel her legs. Her head and her heart and her body can’t find any semblance of coordination. So she allows Echo to pull her into a run, hand grasping tightly to her wrist as they stumble through one corridor after another.   
  
  
“How far is she?” Echo calls to Miller.   
  
  
“We should be close,” Miller replies, leading the way he has memorised from a map that Octavia had drawn for them. Clarke wonders if Octavia knows what has happened to her brother. Clarke wonders if Octavia is even still alive. Clarke wonders if Bellamy has killed her already.  
  
  
But they never make it to her. They’re intercepted by guards that outnumber them. Echo and Miller fight, and they fight hard. But Clarke goes down easier than she had ever done since they reached the Earth. A guard pins her to the floor. With her cheek pressed against the cold hard tiles, the fight leaves her body entirely and tears slip down her face sideways and pool on the ground.   
  
  
Echo manages to fight off a guard before diving at the one above Clarke. She’s free for a few seconds, enough time for her to get to her feet. She distantly hears Echo yell at her to run. But the memory of Bellamy’s blank eyes and the maniacal twist of his lips render her useless and she remains lying on the ground.   
  
  
Echo is taken down and Miller follows shortly after. Clarke wonders if Raven, Hope and Gabriel succeeded with their mission. Or if they too had been captured.   
  
  
She wonders if this is how they finally die.   
  
  
They’re taken to a clinically white room and put in a glass prison box. Echo stays constantly by Clarke’s side, her hand alternating between resting on Clarke’s shoulder, grasping her elbow, and pressing against her back. Clarke is glad for it. It is perhaps the only tether she has to reality. Miller paces the small area of the cell, and if Clarke had glanced up she would have seen the tears streaking down his cheeks.   
  
  
It’s thirty minutes later that four guards enter the room followed by the man she knows as Bardo. Echo and Miller stand up straighter. Clarke wishes she could do something other than nothing.   
  
  
“Diyoza warned me of the people that would come for her,” he drawls, coming to stand in front of their cell, “and when we took Bellamy Blake, she warned me that it would be my downfall. I wonder now whether she knew what she was talking about.”   
  
  
“What did you do to him?” Miller growls through gritted teeth.  
  
  
“You destroyed what I had,” Bardo says and his expression turns angry, eyes alight with fury. “So I destroyed what was yours.”   
  
  
Echo’s grip on her shoulder tightens, Miller sucks in a breath and Clarke can do nothing but stare as Bellamy walks through the door and comes to stand beside Bardo. He looks at them emotionlessly, a stranger staring back at them through Bellamy’s eyes.   
  
  
Clarke wonders if this is what Bellamy had felt like, looking at Clarke but seeing Josephine Lightbourne.   
  
  
“I heard you reunited already,” Bardo says, “with _our_ Bellamy,” and the mirth in his eyes makes Miller leap forward. Echo restrains him, grabbing his arm. There was nothing they could do from an enclosed glass box.   
  
  
“Let her out,” Bardo instructs one of his guards. She walks to the cell and swipes her finger across the glass in a pattern that Echo and Miller memorise instantly. She steps through and Bardo warns, “Attack in any way and you will regret it.” When the guard’s hand closes around Clarke’s arm, Echo attacks anyway, shoving the guard by the shoulder. She receives a swift taser to the ribs in response and when Miller begins to move, Clarke uses what energy she has left to shake her head. He stands down.  
  
  
She is led outside and pushed to the ground beside Bardo. The cell is locked once again and Echo and Miller press close to the barrier separating them, their hands trembling with the want to shatter a glass they know will not break.   
  
  
Bardo withdraws a gun from the waistband of his trousers and hands it to Bellamy with a short, “Do it.” He moves to the back wall of the room, standing with his four guards to watch.  
  
  
Clarke stares up at the gun Bellamy is pointing between her eyes. Echo and Miller are shouting _to_ him and _at_ him all at once. Shouting to remember who he is, to remember who _she_ is. But it falls on deaf ears.   
  
  
And it fades to background noise as Clarke stares at the man in front of her with all the emotions she knows he doesn’t remember enough to feel. She tries to look past his soulless eyes to find the man who put his hand on hers and said ‘ _together’_ , the man who stood by her side on the most impossible of nights and said ‘ _if I’m on that list, you're on that list, write it down or I will’,_ the man who saw past Josephine Lightbourne and promised ‘ _I won’t let you die’._ The man who saved her time and time and time again, even when he didn’t know he was saving her.   
  
  
_Once the head stops telling the heart to beat, it’s over._  
  
  
She slowly rises up from her knees, without even for a moment taking her eyes off his. She stands to her full height and steps forward until his gun is only inches from her forehead. And as Echo and Miller fall silent, she speaks.  
  
  
“It’s okay,” she says, her voice steady. “It’s okay, Bellamy.” If this was her fate, so be it. If this was how she died, so be it. “It’s okay.”   
  
  
Tears well in her eyes before she can swallow them back and she steps closer. She ignores Echo’s soft warning, “ _Clarke!”_ and moves till the muzzle of the gun is pressed firmly against her forehead. Bellamy blinks.   
  
  
“It’s okay,” she repeats in a whisper and her voice breaks, her tears falling hot and fast. “It’s okay. I forgive you.” She lifts her hands, slowly and carefully, so she doesn’t startle him into pulling the trigger. Her fingers gently wrap around both of his hands, which are gripping the gun. “When this is all over… if you need forgiveness, I’ll give that to you now. You’re forgiven, okay?” Bellamy blinks.   
  
  
“What are you waiting for?” Bardo barks and Clarke can hear the impatience in his voice. If Bellamy doesn’t do it, he will.   
  
  
“It’s okay,” Clarke repeats, stepping towards him until he is close enough to touch, the gun still pressing against her head but retracting towards him as she enters his space. She moves her hands away from his and reaches for his face. Bellamy blinks.   
  
  
When she touches his cheek, her face crumples and with it crumbles away any form of composure she has left. Her fingers brush his cleanly shaven jaw and she remembers the Bellamy from before Praimfaya. The one who had brushed his own fingers down her face (‘ _so is cold sweat’_ ), the one who had whispered ‘ _I got you for that’_.   
  
  
The Bellamy in front of her shakes his head slightly and averts his eyes, as if to clear his head. She grasps his face with both her hands, “Look at me, Bellamy.” He brings his eyes back to her. “It’s okay. It’s me so it’s okay.”   
  
  
“Shoot her!” Bardo snaps through the heavy and tense silence. “Shoot her or I will.”  
  
  
“It’s okay… I love you,” she chokes out the last words almost accidentally, in a voice so quiet and garbled in her tears that she isn’t sure he has even heard her. She knows she loves him, _of course_ she knows that. She’s known it for years and decades and centuries. And for every moment of those years and decades and centuries, she was afraid to say it out loud. Because everyone she loved was taken away from her. And she couldn’t afford to lose Bellamy. Not Bellamy, _never_ Bellamy.   
  
  
But now it didn’t matter anymore, because she was going to die and he was already gone and this was the only goodbye she had left for him. The only goodbye that made sense to her.  
  
  
He blinks. And when he opens his eyes, he exhales sharply and Clarke wonders if she should dare hope. Her fingers against his face twitch. The gun against her head slackens. There is only a moment between then and what happens next. Just a single moment. A moment in which Clarke knows.  
  
  
And then she ducks as Bellamy swings to his right and fires his gun five times and the guards go down one at a time with bullets in their heads. Bardo dives towards the exit in the last second and the bullet grazes his shoulder. He’s out the door before the next bullet can hit him.  
  
  
When all is still and silent, Bellamy looks down at his gun before turning his eyes slowly to Clarke.   
  
  
“Bellamy?” She breathes and when his eyes fill up, she throws her arms around his neck and revels in the feeling of his arms wrapping around her back, squeezing so hard she isn’t sure she can breathe.   
  
  
“I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, breath warm on her neck. She shakes her head and pulls away, hands moving to cradle his face once again.  
  
  
“That wasn’t you,” she says firmly, fiercely. She allows herself only a moment more to take in the eyes staring at her with a familiarity that makes her heart ache in the best way possible, before turning to Echo and Miller, who are smiling widely with relief. “Come on, we gotta get out of here and find the others.” The rest of them were alive. They _had_ to be.   
  
  
Echo and Miller tell Clarke the key-pattern and she unlocks the door to be swept into a hug by both of them, before they turn to hug Bellamy.   
  
  
They arm themselves with the weapons on the guards and while Miller and Echo strap on rifles, Bellamy grasps Clarke’s arm.  
  
  
“Clarke… Thank you,” he says and she imagines he feels much like she did after Josephine left her mindspace.   
  
  
“I guess we’re even now,” she chooses to say, smiling. He breathes out a laugh though his eyes tell her he still feels torn. “Hey,” she calls for his attention and he looks at her, “I promise we’re going to get through this. _Together_.” And she wonders whether he could hear her all along, whether he knows what she said and recognised it for what it was, whether he remembers at all. But he’s standing in front of her now as _their_ Bellamy, _her_ Bellamy, and she’s not convinced it matters whether he does. Because for once, she had loved someone and it had brought them back to her.   
  
  
“What now, Princess?” He asks her as Miller holds the door open for them and Echo steps out to survey the corridor.  
  
  
“Now we save our people.”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed that!! Please do leave comments and kudos, if you have any feedback! It would mean a lot to me.  
> This was actually the second version I wrote... the first time I wrote it, I was 2/3 done and my writing app crashed and I lost EVERYTHING. I'll be v honest- I cried for about two hours, wallowing in a whole lot of self pity, but then I took down what I remembered and tried to rebuild it- so I hope this turned out okay for you all! I had lots of alternate endings, like one where Clarke catches Echo's arm and says "Echo... about what I said..." (in reference to the I love you) and Echo just smiles a bit and says "It's okay... I already knew." but I figured they would save such conversations for after the war. ANYWAY, hope you liked this- do leave feedback! Much love and stay healthy xx


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